Of Mohawks and Closets
by ImpalaAtNight
Summary: For the rest of the class, Dean finds himself looking over at Castiel, or Cas as he calls him in his head. Dean is self aware enough to realize that he's crushing hard and fast, but there's something about Castiel that's he can't quite get out of his mind, like a piece of fabric caught on a barbed wire fence. *Prequel to Coming Out of the Closet*


**Hey guys! So I got a couple reviews from people over on AO3 asking to continue Coming Out of the Closet or fill in the ten years. I decided to make it a series, starting with the day they met and building up to their wedding. It's going to be 3-4 parts, depending on the feedback I get. The first part will be set before COotC, the second is COotC, the third will be the ten years, and the fourth would be a little after if it gets enough support. So enjoy!**

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"Dean wake up!" Dean groans and rolls over, burying his head under his pillow to block out Sammy's voice. His door creaks open and the seventh grader bounds into his room.

"Dude, get up or we're gonna be late on our first day!" He reminds him, tugging on the pillow that's doing a terrible job of blocking out the rest of the world. Dean groans again and rolls over, cracking open an eye to glare at his brother.

"Fine, I'm getting up!" He growls back, slowly rising from the warm comfort of his sheets. Yes, he's still bitter over having to leave his friends, and yes, he shouldn't be taking it out on his brother. But even though he wished they didn't have to completely uproot their lives, he's still grateful his mom finally left their alcoholic excuse for a father. Dean sighs and shoves his kid brother out of his room, locking the door behind him. He sighs again and runs a hand down his face, still partly asleep. He grabs the first pair of jeans he can find, most of his belongings still in boxes, even though he should've been unpacked a few days ago. He slides on a white button up and pulls a chunky green sweater on over it, the large folds familiar as it engulfs his not-as-small-as-he-wants-you-to-think frame.

"Dean, hurry up!" Sam calls from the hallway, pounding on his door.

"Hold your horses bitch!" Dean calls back, feeling around his nightstand for his glasses.

"I just don't want to be late on our first day, jerk!" Sam responds. Dean smirks and grabs his bag, thankful that he at least had the sense to pack it the night before. He heads towards his door and unlocks it, throwing it open and shouldering past his brother. He bounds down the stairs and enters their kitchen, where Mary Winchester is humming and buttering toast.

"Hey Mom." Dean greets cheerfully, grabbing a piece of toast from the plate his mom holds out.

"Good morning sweetie! Are you excited about your new school?" She asks him as Sam stumbles into the kitchen, vibrating with excitement. Dean shrugs and bites into the toast.

"I'm excited!" Sam responds. Dean scowls at him and wonders if he was that annoying in middle school. Thinking back to his own middle school experience he concludes that no, no he was not.

Mary smiles and ruffles Sammy's hair, laughing as he smooths it back down. She sets the plate of toast in the middle of the kitchen table and studies her hands for a moment.

"Your Dad called this morning." Mary tells them, her face going dark and her jaw clenching. Dean scowls at his toast. "He said he was going to send you the Impala when you got your learners permit."

"Did you tell him that he can't buy back apologies for years of emotional and physical abuse?" Dean responds. Mary smiles proudly at her oldest and wraps one hand around his shoulders.

"Of course. I also told him to have Ellen and Bobby drive it up when they visit this Christmas." Mary tells him with a bigger smile and a wink. Dean beams up at her and hugs her back. He glances towards the clock over the stove and shoves away from the table.

"We gotta go! We're gonna miss the bus!" Dean tells him mom, kissing her on the cheek and rushing out the door, Sam close on his heels. They barely make it to the bus stop on time, separating to go on their respective buses, one to the middle school, the other to the high school.

Dean collapses into a seat by the window, staring as his new town passes him by. The streets and shops are unfamiliar to him, he has no memories of chasing Sammy past that tree, he can't remember the feeling of pushing Jo on that swing set, and the cars and houses can't be pinpointed to one family name. He misses Lawrence all the more now that he can finally take in Pontiac and the seemingly endless open fields. The bus takes a sudden turn and the view is replaced with a long line of buses and the kids trapped inside their yellow confines. Dean sighs and hitches his messenger bag onto his shoulder, preparing to depart. The students around him do the same, quieting down whatever conversations they were having and crowding toward the aisle.

The bus doors hiss open and the students crowd into the tiny aisle, trying to get out of the yellow vehicle as fast as possible. Dean waits for an opening and easily slides into it, shuffling forward toward the doors. He exits the bus and weaves his way through the throng of students swarming toward their friends and the red brick building before them. Pontiac Township High School didn't seem all that different from his old high school in Lawrence, but all Dean could think about was how he didn't know any of these people. He doesn't know when that girl got her first kiss, or when that guy came out to his friends, or when- Does that guy have a mohawk?

Dean shakes his head and shuffles towards the main office, intent on getting his schedule as quickly as possible. He pauses before the secretary's desk, waiting for him to hang up the phone. When he does he turns to him with a smile that is probably supposed to look reassuring, but mostly just looks creepy.

"How may I help you?" He asks with a false sweet voice. It reminds him of Dolores Umbridge, in the worst way possible.

"My name's Dean Winchester, I'm a new student. I was told to come to the main office to collect my schedule." He tells the secretary, whose name is apparently C. Metatron.

"Of course, the Winchester. Your mother called and said you would be joining us." He shuffled through the papers on his desk and retrieved the correct form, handing it over. Dean's name was printed across the top, with his schedule listed below in a neat little chart. "If you need help finding anything, I'm sure one of the other students will be glad to point you in the right direction. I can provide you with a map if you like."

"I'm alright thanks." Dean tells him, giving a small wave before exiting the office. He checks his schedule and sighs as he realizes he has Civics and Economics first thing in the morning. He checks the room number and looks at the doors around him. It says he's supposed to be in D204 and right now he appears to be near D126. "At least I'm in the right building." He mumbles to himself, finding the nearest stairwell and joining the mob of students climbing it. They jostle each other and Dean can't help but overhear snippets of their conversations. The two girls in front of him are particularly loud and their conversation drifts back to him.

"Did you hear about Novak?"

"Which one, there's like five of them."

"The youngest, you know, the weird one."

"Oh yeah, him! What's his name again? Like Cassiel or something weird like that. What'd he do this time?"

"I heard he punched Raphael and broke his nose."

"Oh my God! Do you know why?"

"I heard that Raphael said something about that lesbian girl he always hangs out with and Novak said something back about how Raph was jealous that she was getting more girls than him. So then like Raph said something about Novak being gay and he just punched him and walked away."

"Oh my God! I wished I could have seen that!"

Dean moves past them once they clear the doors and carefully navigates his way through the mass of students congregating in the halls. He finds the door labeled with the correct room number and slips inside, finding a seat in the back and sliding into it, hunching over so he can ignore everyone. The bell rings and the chatter in the room quiets down as people turn toward the front of the room. Dean lifts his head up slightly, enough to see the teacher as she walks into the room. This causes Dean to lift his head even more, eyebrows raising in surprise. The teacher is hot, like really hot. Her black hair is cut to the shoulder and underneath her black blazed, an equally black Ramones tank top is visible. Dean perks up slightly, thinkng that he might actually enjoy this class, if that's going to be his teacher.

She takes roll, and Dean thinks he recognizes a names, but he knows that he doesn't, since this is his first day. He atomatically says 'here' when his name is called, and even manages to ignore the curious stares he gets from the rest of his classmates when the turn around to gawky at the new voice.

"Okay, so technically we've got a new student, but because it's the begininning of the day, I'm not gonna ask hm to introduce himself. Even if he is kinda handsome." The teacher, Ms Barnes, winks at him and Dean smirks. He's definately going to like this class.

"Alright, lets get started on our review of last classes activities." Ms Barnes says, turning around to activate her Promethean board.

The door opens suddenly and everyone turns to look. The boy standing there glares at all of them with black lined eyes until they look away. Dean can't help but be transfixed with him, and doesn't even flinch when his blue gaze lands on him, though the boy's eyes do stutter on him. For a moment their eyes lock, and neither boy seems to want to be the first to break eye contact. Dean feels like he's drowning in a sea of vibrant blue, but then the other boy breaks eye contact.

"Castiel. How nice of you to show your face, even if you are late." Ms Barnes greets the new guy, raising an eyebrow at him. Castiel, as that appears to be his name, just shrugs and hitches his bag highernon his shoulder.

"Better late than never, right Ms B?" Castiel remarks with a smirk. Ms Barnes rolls her eyes and gestures to the back.

"Go sit down Novak." She tells him. Castiel gives her a fake salute and saunters to the back of the class, red tipped Mohawk on proud display as he does so. In the back of his mind, Dean vaguely recognizes his as the guy he saw this morning while he was walking into the building. Novak reaches the back of the classroom and slides into the chair farthest from Dean on the table next to him. Dean tries not to get offended.

For the rest of the class, Dean finds himself looking over at Castiel, or Cas as he calls him in his head. Dean is self aware enough to realize that he's crushing hard and fast, but there's something about Castiel that's he can't quite get out of his mind, like a piece of fabric caught on a barbed wire fence. He doesn't learn anything in biology that day, though, as he's walking through the halls to his next class, he thinks that maybe he'll do better in the rest of his classes.

(He's also self aware enough to know that he's probably just going to end up thinking about Cas all day.)

(Little does he know that this will soon become habit, until it seems odd when he doesn't think about Cas every chance he gets)

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**Hey guys! Hope you enjoyed that so far! More to come!**


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